Your Life and Mine

So Many Blogs, So Little Time

2007-06-18T08:40:00.001-07:00

O.M.G.

My blogwatch says there are 14 new blog posts for me to read. So many good blogs, so little time. At the moment I am blogging this via the wonders of email. Here's a few catch-up items:

1. The Judge in Kandy's case was overwhelmed with requests for jury leniency. He said that he had never seen so many applications from prospective juries to be released. Well, goodness - it's the beginning of summer! What is he thinking? Fortunately, Kandy listed all her reasons, not the least of which was the plane tickets to Ohio leaving the day before the trial start date - and the judge let her go. Yippeee!

2. The garden is really coming together. Still lots of work to do in the rose garden.

3. It felt like we spent the entire weekend in the car. Drove up Pacific Coast Highway (pictures later) past Jenner to Ft. Ross. The girls enjoyed that, but we neglected to find a sandy beach that far north. We should have stopped at Bodega Bay for them to swim... Did you know the PCH is full of hairpin turns?

4. Of course, we ended up taking the scenic route as in, "No Megan, we're not lost. We know where we are, we just aren't quite sure how to get there.

(Warning: Graphic Kid Detail below - do not eat while reading...)
5. 1500 feet from Ft. Ross Megan says, "I'm not feeling good." (Did I mention the hairpin turns?) 1200 feet from Ft. Ross Megan can't hold it in anymore. There's nothing like the sound of a kid up-chucking in the car. 1000 feet from Ft. Ross I can finally pull over - just in front of the sign that says we're 1000 feet from our destination. Wonder Woman Kandy jumps out at gets Megan out of the car, but not before there is vomit all over the floor, her pants & shoes, the seat, and Katie cringing away on the far side of seat (not one of her best moments).

6. Excitement over. On to Ft. Ross.

7. Eventually head to Guerneville (a very gay-friendly town) for very late lunch. Wandered into a few shops, one wasn't appropriate for kids, quickly ushered them out. Another was a hemp store. Megan got a great marionette puppet, Katie and Kandy got a couple of hemp bracelets with beads.

8. Back home. I am beginning to hate driving.

That was our weekend.

How was yours?

--
"We used to think that a hundred million monkeys at an hundred million typewriters eventually could produce the complete works of Shakespeare; now, thanks to the Internet, we know this is not true."

Looking for Attitude in 2006

2006-01-01T16:54:00.000-08:00

208

It is New Years Day; sweet lather! ♪♫ ♪♫

I have no idea how to approach this new year. 2005 was not one of my best years, actually rather forgettable. No where to go except up, as they say. I can't say it has been a rock-bottom year. My family is doing well, the kids are great, but deep inside I've been missing a beat, and I don't know how to get that beat back.

People look to me to make the right choices, the decisions, and I just don't know if I have the wherewithal to do that anymore. It's as if a piece is missing, and all the information is no longer within reach to know what to do and when to do it. And on top of it all, I have to lose 50-75 1bs to get out of the danger zone.

What is this girl to do???

My Life, but maybe not yours

2005-11-22T20:15:00.000-08:00

At work I can't take my cell phone in the building. Oh, and an MP3 player is a big no-no. For the most part, I don't mind the cell phone ban very much - I never use it at work anyway. But,

I miss my MP3!

Why won't they let me take my music with me? Often times I work in a very cold computer room. The room is noisy and filled with shitty electronic interference. I couldn't get a broadcast in there if I stood up on a table and held an antenna. It's not the music they're afraid of. It's that damned little drive that can't be watched 100% of the time. They're afraid I'm not really going to listen to music. Oh no! I'm going to sneak some company secrets onto that nifty little drive and sell them to the highest bidder.

NOT!

I would never do this. But then, I suppose someone else might. At least that's what they think. You see, I'm not being singled out here. I'm just one tiny little cog in the Big Wheels That Keep on Turning. This rule and about a 1000 others protect that information from some common weeny out there.

I hope it's worth it. Maybe I'll have to go out and get a boombox and some CD's to have some tunes.

That is so retro...

Gaydar Radio

2005-11-07T08:35:00.000-08:00

I was poking around blogs when I came across a reference to Gaydar Radio. Funny that.

I wonder how long the term "gaydar" has been around? Well we know it couldn't pre-date "radar," which dates from the mid-40's, so it's fairly recent.

I know that when I was in Keflavik, Iceland, in the very early 70's, we used the term quite a bit. It was that 2nd sense that you discover as a newly liberated person (ie., you no longer live with mommy and daddy), who just happens (!I hate this kind of reference!) to be - gasp! - g-a-y. It was often the only way you could get a bead on someone who-just-might-be One of Us. Otherwise, you could get investigated and thrown out of the service. What a crock.

But, I digress. Gaydar Radio is interesting. I haven't listened to it very long yet, so I haven't got a sense of whether or not it's worth my time and effort of coming back to more that a couple times. I generally do not label my music as being gay or not gay. I think that is a foolish exercise, as well as quite artifical. A song is good, it either says something or not, and you want to listen to it.

However, I do understand that there may be a growing genre of songs with content that has a gay thread - and perhaps the only venue they would have would be something like Gaydar Radio. If that is the case, the more power to them. Everyone's voice should have a platform from which to rise. And Internet Radio is certainly a vastly spreading venue.

In my 50 years, so much has changed... the world is so much smaller - and larger - than it ever was as when I was a child.

Secrets

2005-10-11T19:15:00.000-07:00

I was reading a blog that I really enjoy and she mentioned another blog that has a very cool idea. You can post anonymous secrets on postcards on the site.

Check it out.

Quite cool.

Howls and Wind

2005-10-08T08:43:00.000-07:00

The wind howled through last night. Chairs on the deck are in disarray, much like my mind this morning. I'm feeling fenced in by duty and so little time left to do those things I once set out to do. In the angst of the moment, I'm reminded by my children that I can only do one thing at a time. Like the wind, if I try to blow everything through at once, nothing recognizable will be left, and nothing left to build upon. The point is not to have disarray as a legacy.

Dust to Dust

2005-09-30T15:55:00.000-07:00

They say, "Ashes to ashes and dust to dust."

My beloved kitty, Lucky, is buried in the backyard. It was a cold, wet winter day to dig a hole in the garden. She had died all curled up, sleeping in a ray of sunshine. I wrapped her little tortie colored body in a favorite blanky, and set her in the bottom of her last resting place.

The girls said good-bye and laid some flowers on top of her.

The hardest part was covering her up. A most ridiculous thought came to me -

"What if she wakes up?"

And another: "What if an animal digs her up?"

Even in the end I worried about her. I don't know why it is that we humans can get so wrapped up in the cuteness of our pets. They're sort of surrogate people to us, aren't they? They give unconditional love and attention. Demanding only that that their species demands. I miss her just the same. It's a human frailty to live with.

California Poppies

2005-09-28T18:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I need alone time - but I need to be doing something. Sometimes I paint watercolors...

Touched

2005-09-27T19:57:00.000-07:00

I opened up my email the other day. A message from my friend Joe stilled my heart for a moment. You see, there's a kind of cancer that wraps around the thyroid gland. Joe's wife has such a tumor. Last week when I spoke to Joe on the phone, I could hear the emotion crack in his voice. It scared me. Joe, the easy-going, happy fella everyone relies on was so sad, and I was at a loss for words.

Menacing enough as a cancer, they did get the tumor. But...

... her vocal chords are paralized. They did a second surgery to do a tracheostomy - I guess the swelling in her neck made it so that she couldn't breathe. My heart went still when Joe told me this. And, of course, all this means that she cannot talk.

"Is it permanent?" I asked.

"Well, the doctors say it could take up to a year to know for sure."

She was just taken out of the Intensive Care Unit and into a regular hospital room just yesterday. Joe sounded much more up-beat today. My first thought was about their two kids - 4 year old Meagan and 8 year old Owen. They'll be taking on more responsibility. I mean, she won't be able to answer the phone, or make calls - not without a TTY of some kind. BUT, here's where computers can be a very good aide. This is a life-changing turn of events.

Still, things are starting to look better. I think.

Tyler Sheehan - Premature reports of his death

2005-09-25T18:11:00.000-07:00

I just got an email from a friend with an article from The Onion. It says that 2nd son of anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan, Tyler Sheehan, died in New Orleans while saving people when a levee over-flowed.

I can find absolutely no mention of this in any of the news services, and the tone of the Onion's article is blatantly biased. Now I'm pretty liberal, but the tone of the article itself is not what I'd call well-reported.

So I'm left to wonder, is this article satirical in nature, or...? Read for yourselves - click on the title of this blog entry, above.

... Okay, did you read it? Well, it looks like it is really a hoax. Check out this article.

Reminder to Feel Blissful

2005-09-19T21:20:00.000-07:00

I find it an odd juxtoposition of soul with our electronic well-being that a service can be provided to remind one to feel blissful. The ad on Gmail reads,

Want to feel blissful?
Experience deep, pleasurable peace with this extraordinary CD.
http://www.bliss-music.com

And this,

Notes from the Universe
Daily mailings to remind you of your power, reach and divinity.

http://www.tut.com/mmm.shtml

I feel continually at odds with my own care and feeding of the soul - but I cannot see where daily "notes from the universe" would serve to that feeding. Many of us are at odds with ourselves and our work - finding that as we immerse ourselves in technology, we also lose contact with our own hearts. I am surprised to come to find that I do not know my inner self very well, where once I did. I knew what I wanted, but there was a fork in the road so many years ago, and attempts to regain the other path are now doomed to failure. The only answer is to seek out and find a new path.

Gmail and electronic promises notwithstanding, the path can only be sought through time and effort. I know now why retreats can be so important. It allows one to carve out a new path - but getting to that path and staying on it are two very different endeavors. One must have tools to stay on the path once one re-enters the stream of social existance of family, friends, and work. Staying on the path once the retreat is over can only be done when one has the tools and has accepted the responsibility to do so.

Gilligan, Katrina, and Bush

2005-09-10T14:59:00.000-07:00

Bob Denver has passed on. I spent mindless hours watching Maynard G. Krebs in Dobie Gillis with my older brothers.

"Work?!?!"

And, after that, I spent even more mindless hours watching the castaways on Gilligan's Island.
It was a fun time on TV in those days. So innocent, everything was just for the humor of it.

And then there's the horrid reality of Katrina. There is no humor in the tragedy. But, there is a perfect picture making the rounds. It shows Bush Sr and Dubya (aka the Shrub) grinning side-by-side, holding up a fish - with flood water and victims in the background. So close to the truth, it is almost not humorous.

Megan wants a Butler; Katie wants to drive

2005-07-10T15:12:00.000-07:00

And Katie wants to live in Texas near her aunt Bett.

Megan wants to live in Hawaii, own and live in a hotel, and charge $10 for people to stay there. Except her family. We get to stay for free. She doesn't know how long you could stay there for $10, but she doesn't want you to have to spend all your own money on just a place to stay, so it will be cheap.

She also wants to get my partner and I two cooks and three butlers. When asked if we could trade in a butler for a personal trainer, she thought for a minute. Then she said, sure! That way you can exercise every morning, right?

That's right. We need to keep our bodies moving... so we can enjoy our life of leisure.

Megan also says that she doesn't want to drive. Her husband will drive for her. This is news to us. She never wanted a husband before. However, lately, I think she's found out that husbands can be useful entities. She has no role model in our home - she has two moms, afterall, but that doesn't deter her.

Katie says she wants to have a girl first. She hasn't said anything about a husband. She wants to take Momma Kitty, and maybe Fluffy with her when she turns eighteen. Oh, and "when can I learn to drive?" "Can I have the green car, Mom?" That's my go-to-work car - an ugly green '94 Camry. I don't think it will survive the 7 more years she has until she can get her driver's license.

I guess Katie will be driving Megan around...

She doesn't play well with others

2005-05-05T18:48:00.000-07:00

There are dweebs in this world.

There are hand-shakers in this world.

And the dweebs aren't the hand-shakers; I'm a dweeb. Unfortunately, my current job has me hand-shaking and nodding, and writing project plans. And I'm supposed to make-nice to total jerks, in the name of project management.

I'm very unhappy. All I want to do is play with bleeding-edge computers, do extreme programming, and just feel like I can have fun again. Work used to be fun. It isn't any more.

As a long-ago supervisor once said to me,

"There's a reason why they call it work."

I hate to admit it, but he was right. At least for the moment.

Evil Incarnate?

2005-04-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

I was walking down East 14th Ave, near Civic Center Park in Denver today. It was a beautiful day, warm and pretty. Glowing, really.

I stopped to sit for a few minutes and I overheard a conversation between two white, middle-aged women.

"Didn't you know? This new Pope was the enforcer for the old Pope. He was the one who made sure the liberal theologists in South America were shut down. And now he is the one they elected? Give me a break. No way would the cardinals have given us a brown man, much less a black one to have dominion over them."

"Well, all they were trying to do down there was make sure that people were able to live, take care of their problems, be forgiven and not shunned. Only evil incarnate would want to shut down those goals. I guess it's no wonder the Catholic church - heh. - the Big C - doesn't embrace its believers in third world countries."

"Well, with any luck, at his age, he won't be around long. I wonder why they chose someone who can only give ten or fifteen years to the job?"

"Why? Indeed! Why?"

Old, lost friends

2005-04-17T20:25:00.000-07:00

I have been wondering what ever happened to Ann. She introduced me to the music of Joni Mitchell and Judy Collins, and yes, even John Denver. I was quite naive in 1972 - not like I am today. Then, I was young and fresh, a guitar slung on my back wherever I went. I'd earn a bit of money at the local coffeehouses singing folk tunes. I could sing much better than I could play, but then, it was a package deal.

Ann was a year older, and seemed so much wiser than me. She was catholic, and was active musically in the catholic church. On Sundays, the priest at St. Francis had the traditional 9 o'clock mass. But at 10 o'clock, they also allowed for the more popular folk mass. I'm not catholic, but I could sing, and sing well. But Ann could really play. Her fingers would work those guitar strings. Listening to her play was wonderful - as though the music was magic - it was entrancing. She had a talent that just couldn't be learned. It was her gift.

We spent nearly a year together, but I knew I just couldn't stay. Although I was 300 miles from home, I was still too close to my parents. And living in the closet with Ann was driving me crazy. Loving someone, but never acknowleging that deep, sweaty love was insanity. But in 1973, it seemed there were few choices. The economy sucked, so by then I had applied for a position with the postal service - woo-hoo. Now there was something to look forward to.

What to do? Stay in school? I had just completed a year of commercial photography school - it just wasn't what I had thought it would be, although I learned a lot. And, it has served me well to this day. Still...

I left home. I joined the Navy. Saw the world.

Often I wrote to Ann. Sometimes she'd write back. The letters finally stopped coming, she didn't answer mine any longer. It hurt, but I was distracted.

Life goes on.

Twenty years later I came across her parents' old phone number. I rang it and her mother answered.

"Hi, do you remember me?"

"Well, of course I do, hon. How are you?"

We talked a while, and I learned that Ann worked for a parish in Seattle. Her mom gave me her number there. Should I call her? What on earth would I say? Well, the truth is always good, I was thinking of her and thought we might re-connect as old friends. Simple as that. I dialed the number.

"Hello?"

"Hi! do you remember me?"

"Yes. How did you get my number?"

"I talked to your mom. She gave it to me. How have you been? Gosh, it's been a long time."

"I'm surprised she gave it to you."

"Surprised? Why?"

Silence.

"Ann, I just wanted to re-connect. You know, look up an old friend. That's all. Maybe we could get to know each other again."

"Why? Are you dying or something?"

"Uh, no. Well, it seems you're not interested in re-connecting."

Silence.

"Okay, I get it. That's really sad. Bye."

"Bye."

Talk about a cold-call. I think that was the chilliest call I'd ever had. Icicles. Nothing like the warm person I recall, but then we all change, I suppose. We had left our friendship on good terms, I had thought. Her coldness surprises and saddens me even now.

Fast forward to "today." So, the Pope dies. Brings to mind those small experiences with the catholic church, so many years ago. I go online and google Ann's name.

Look at those hits! It turns out she's a pastoral assistant of youth ministeries.

Ah, perhaps now things make more sense. She doesn't want anything to do with me because I could "out" her. How goche.

Sometimes old friends are just old.

There's a hole in my heart where a friend used to be.

Where is my missing piece?

2005-04-15T21:21:00.000-07:00

(With apologies to Shel Silverstein, "The Missing Piece.")

I never knew I had a sister until October, 2004.

She is 8.5 years older than me. Two years younger than one brother, and 3 years younger than my older brother. (See a previous post.) It still sounds wierd to me when Kandy says,

"Your sister called."

"Who? I don't have - Oh!"

Next week, on Thursday, we will meet for the first time. After attending a conference in Denver, I'll fly on to Texas to stay with her and her husband for the weekend, then fly home.

We have spoken quite a few times on the phone over the last 6 months. I think she really wants a connection. I do, too, I suppose. But, it isn't something that can be forced.

She has wanted to develop some "shared memories." Like what we were doing at specific times in our lives. But we're different, and our lives are so different that in a small way I find it hard to relate to that notion. She has spent her whole life knowing that she was adopted, wondering who her parents were, wondering if she had any siblings, maybe even wondering why me? Perhaps her need to connect in this way is her way of completing the circle back to her beginnings.

I have spent my whole life knowing I was "different," trying to fit in, but never feeling as if I really could.

She says that she was blessed with wonderful parents. Before her, they had already adopted a boy which would be her brother. They weren't poor, not rich, and didn't really want for anything. And, she says there was a lot of love in the house.

But, still... She knew things didn't quite fit for her.

Perhaps we have found our missing piece?

Two Rails in, Two To Go!

2005-04-15T14:37:00.000-07:00

Click on the title

One Rail In, Three To Go

2005-04-15T14:35:00.000-07:00

Click the title!

Saul dies, and now I remember him

2005-04-08T19:58:00.000-07:00

Funny that.

I have been negligent. I have not thought to read Saul Bellow's works in too many years, and now I am sad that this is so. A man of extraordinary wit and a keen sense of what is and what is not.

To mourn his passing I must pick up a tome and read it now, because no more fruits of his mind will form on the pages of a new novel. No more of his sly, left handed humor will grace my mind - except for what he has already put down in draft and form.

Funny how we are reminded of someone's life - only when they have passed on. Sad that.

But happy that he was here to share his mind with the anonymous reader.

Phishing scams and name changes

2005-04-08T07:25:00.000-07:00

I get, at a minimum, three phishing emails a day at my work address. I know why this is so - Over time, I have phoolishly posted to various mailing lists using my regular work email address. I mean, if you google my email address - it's unbelievable how many hits come back. sigh. (My personal email address has been trashed so many times that I've resorted to creating honeypot addresses to use when I must publicly expose myself.)

So, I recently I've concocted temporary handles and aliases. Once used, and I'm satisfied it is no longer needed, it's gone. Deleted. Obliterated. Kaput. It makes me angry that I must waste my CPU cycles on crap that I cannot stop. Watching the syslogs shows the spam hitting a brick wall -

"No one is home - go away!"

So, as you can see, what I'm doing doesn't really take care of the original problem. For that I'm forced to change either my own handle - don't want to do that - or change my system name. The problem will still be there - but an upstream server will have to waste its cycles now. Alternatively, I could use procmail recipes, but they're a pain when it comes to catching the spam without catching something I really want. And, they have to be maintained. ptuuuui!

I'm moving from SunOS to Linux anyway - a system rename is definitely in order.

Suggestions for a new name anyone?

Please give me some ideas!!!

Cinnamon Hot Chocolate Holiday

2005-04-05T08:04:00.000-07:00

My partner, Kandy, is getting the girls off to school, and the second week of my well-deserved vacation commences.

What a wonderful thing to just sit at home and not worry a thing about work. I'm sick of work. I've worked my whole life, and I just want to rest. Last week was the obligatory "go see the relatives in Washington" part of the vacation. This week is for me. Just puttering around the house, drinking my cinnamon hot chocolate, building the new deck railings. (Yes, I know. I started that project last summer. Time it was finished, don't you think?)

Every aging muscle in my body aches, but I don't mind. At least I'm not sitting at a computer for the entire day! As much as I enjoy my work, I think I've been getting mighty stagnant. Cobwebs growing over me and my chair, the only moving parts are my hands as they play the keyboard.

Anyone who works in the tech industry can probably understand what I'm talking about.

Anyway, off to the garage now to put that second coat of Varathane on the railing...

Hideous Priscilla

2005-04-02T18:27:00.000-08:00

Have you seen how hideous Priscilla Presley looks these days? Not that I care, but I couldn't help but to react when I saw her the other day on the tube. I mean, the woman must be in her sixties, right? I have nothing against women looking their best, but I really think she and Michael Jackson must use the same plastic surgeon...

We were channel-checking through the channels last week and came across Oprah interviewing Priscilla and daughter Lisa Marie. Oh-My-Gawd. She looks like someone was standing behind her, pulling her facial skin taut. Did she get implants in her cheeks and do botox as well? (I think I can see needle marks in her forehead!)

And what about those lips?

What is wrong with looking your age? I don't know how old she is, but sheesh! Give me a break, how can you go through life looking like a plastic doll instead of a real person? She is so hideous looking that we couldn't even watch the interview.

Sad. Sad. Sad.

Here's one more pic - this one is Lisa Marie in the same interview. She has looked better!

Who is this?

2005-04-02T11:02:00.000-08:00

This is Ron and I at Susie and Matt's house on Easter (2005).

Amazing how much alike we look. Heh-heh. Lots more pics...

This is the marvelous Easter cake that Matt made. Yummmm!!

Megan had my camera and was taking a lot of pictures. Note that this picture of Ron is taken on an upward slant. Ron decides to stick his tongue out at her! What a goof-ball!

Everyone is going to the zoo.

2005-03-12T18:15:00.000-08:00

We piled into the car and made our way across the bay to the San Francisco Zoo today. After a week of unseasonably warm pre-spring weather, we have to pick a day that stays foggy, misty and cool. Well, at least it wasn't hot. We go to zoo so the girls can get to see the animals, but I always come away depressed. More so with this zoo, than say a zoo like the Oakland zoo.

The SF zoo is still one of the old style zoos - that is, they still use quite a few of the old exhibits - closed in, small areas to keep exotic animals. The animals are well-cared for, and fed, I'm sure, but the living space for many of these animals continues to be small and lonely. Granted, they have been improving many exhibits, but their progress is slow. Recently they lost Calle, a 37 year old female asian elephant from some unknown ailment (depends on who you talk to), and then had to ship off their remaining two elephants to the PAWS Sanctuary located in Galt and San Andreas, CA.

I suppose it's a lack of money that keeps this zoo from progressing faster. It makes me wonder how a zoo with San Franciso's resources can lag so far behind a much smaller, but much better quality zoo such as the Oakland Zoo across the Bay.

Then there's people watching... Quite remarkable how neopolitin (if that word can be used in this context) the SF Area has become over the years. I saw many Asian families, Indian, Pakistanis, Hispanic, as well as your run-of-the-mill white and black folk. I think I enjoyed the people watching more than the animal watching. There was this very tall man with three boys - who were barely under control - but he did seem to have control. They were all different ages, and if he told one boy not to do something, unless he addressed the others as well, they did the same thing their brother was told not to do. He looked very exhausted.

Then there was the hispanic family with a tiny little girl with a temper and lungs to match. She must've been 15 months old, but very tiny. Whatever set her off was something that made her very angry. I wonder what her teen years will be like?? Heh.

Another family left their wagons in a stroller parking area while they visited the petting area. Crafty, thieving little squirrels took advantage of the absent humans to forage in the wagons for food and whatnot. Saw one squirrel make off with a whole candy bar, wrapper and all! Just another way to adjust to their human visitors, I suppose...

The sister I don't know... yet

2005-03-03T19:57:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, I was supposed to meet my sister, Bette, for the very first time in my life. A few months ago I didn't even know I had a sister. She had been given up for adoption at birth, for reasons only known to my parents. She is the daughter of both my parents, so we are full sisters. She is 8.5 years older than I am. She found me via the Internet (of all things! - heh).

Three weeks ago she and her husband, Steve, were going to fly out here. We would finally meet, get to know each other. But then the unthinkable happened. Steve had a stroke. Steve is 54, and no one had seen this coming.

OMG! While I was concerned and very sad for his pain, as well as my sister's, I was also very disappointed that I wouldn't get to meet her - yet. We had made so many plans, but it all melted away. It's been a haul for them, but he is now in rehab and starting to make some progress. I can't even imagine what he must be going through - a tremendous life change. Not one any of us would opt for. And Bette says she never imagined that she would be spending her life helping him to deal with this. Collateral damage.

So, now it turns out that I'll be attending a conference in Denver soon. That means I can piggyback onto the company sponsored airfare and pick up a trip out to visit Bette - and not have to tap very deeply into our meager discreational funds.

HooRah!

Spring in California...

2005-03-01T19:37:00.000-08:00

Spring is sproinging in Northern California! Blossoms are bursting out on all the trees - our Ornamental Plum trees are boistrous in pink.

We have 2 new tree roses to put into the ground (2 of 4 that will replace the 6 that lined the walk-way up to our front stairs). But when we dug the holes 2 weeks ago, it rained, rained, rained! And my back never forgave the labor... Our new chiropractor has benefitted from my pain (from my wallet to his...).

This weekend is supposed to be dry, so we've got to get those roses into the ground! Of course the holes have kind of filled in with mud with all the rains we've been getting, so we'll have to dig them out again - but we have got to do it.

I'll post some Before and After pics in my next post.

Bean counters and bad decisions

2005-02-25T15:04:00.000-08:00

I'm a contractor to an agency. A government agency. Lately I've been so amazed by some way-high, mucky-muck, bean-counter who said something in a conference call that has got everybody in the business chattering away. This is perhaps a prime example of shit rolling downhill - only the shit keeps on rolling and getting us all really dirty. This mucky-mucky decides that the government can just throw away a whole lot of technical infrastructure, because he was "vendored."

What is "vendored?" It's when some lobbyest pulls aside the bean-counter, whispering in his ear that his company can do it better and for less. oooookay, but the bean-counter doesn't know any of the technical details, nor how hard it is to get diverse areas of the government to cooperate. And now that we're just about "there," rumors have started flying that the floor upon which we stand may be crumbling beneath us.

Believe it or not, this is your life and mine - taxes and government - the controllers of how we must live our lives in this society. The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

Running List

2005-02-25T09:51:00.000-08:00

(in no particular order)

Leslie Gore
Portia De Rossi
Ellen DeGeneres
Drew Barrymore
Tammy Baldwin
Marlene Dietrich
Melissa Etheridge (who doesn't know that?!?)
Sara Gilbert
Margaret Fuller
Alice B. Toklas
Gertrude Stein
Virginia Woolf
Janis Ian
kd lang
Phyllis Lyon
Del Martin
Eleanor Roosevelt
Martina Navratilova
Ma Rainey
Sarah Shahi
Cynthia Nixon
Catie Curtis

2005-02-24T20:55:00.000-08:00

moi

2005-02-23T07:57:00.000-08:00

Me - on a good day...

Intro

2005-02-22T19:30:00.000-08:00

Squares and circles, time and space; all that makes up what we are to each other. Intersections of multi-faceted lives and how they touch and intertwine with one another. Everything that is novel to each and every one of us, that is the journey of this life.

This is a weblog and story of lives that intersect one another - Often violent, often terror-stricken, but never hopeless.